


Make the Yuletide Gay

by dannomar



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Merry Christmas, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21956182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannomar/pseuds/dannomar
Summary: Adora runs into Catra in an unexpected place after not seeing her for years.A Christmas One-Shot
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 189
Collections: Gays in Etheria





	Make the Yuletide Gay

They bump into each other in the grocery store, of all places. Which, in retrospect, maybe isn’t that weird, but Adora hasn’t seen Catra in years. When she recognizes her, it’s like a shock to her system.

The kind of shock that makes her fingers go limp and her shopping basket fall with a clatter on the ground. It's loud enough to draw the attention of everyone nearby, including Catra. 

Adora ducks to scoop up her groceries, which includes a variety of candy and marshmallows and hot chocolate, her face burning. 

A familiar hand enters her field of vision, grabbing the family sized box of Heart Blossoms (made with the finest Plumerian chocolate!) and dumping it back into the basket. 

“Hey, Adora,” Catra says. Her voice is slightly raspy, like she’s only just woken up, even though it is the middle of the afternoon. Adora feels the weight of Catra’s gaze on her, and she just _knows_ if she looks up she’ll see smug amusement in the other woman’s eyes. She keeps her eyes firmly to the floor as she throws the last of her things in her basket. 

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Adora mutters, standing quickly as she tosses the last of her items in the basket. The plastic handles clack noisily in her hand as the basket smacks against her thigh.

“Oh? It looks like you’re planning to give yourself diabetes. I know you have a sweet tooth, Adora, but this seems a little excessive.” A hint of a smile curls at the edges of Catra’s mouth.

“It’s not all for me,” Adora says defensively. “It’s for a holiday party. With Bow and Gimmer...and...others,” she trails off lamely. The amusement on Catra’s face slides away, and for a second, the expression that replaces it reminds Adora of the past, of a time when they were friends, before…

Before things changed.

The expression is gone in a second, and Catra’s face is carefully crafted into one of disinterest. Adora knows that look, too. 

“It’s been...a while,” Adora says, trying to cut through the awkwardness. Catra doesn’t say anything, and Adora thinks she will simply walk away. Then—

“Yeah. What’s it been? Three years?” 

“Four.”

“Damn. We’re getting old,” Catra says, sweeping her hair behind her ear. It’s shorter than Adora remembers, but it suits her. She looks good. 

“What are you doing back in town?” Adora asks. After college, Catra left without a word, and if she’s being honest, Adora thought she’d never see her again. Catra appears uncomfortable, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Adora adds. She kind of hates this: the stilted conversation between them, the undercurrent of tension hanging thick in the air.

“Funeral stuff,” Catra mumbles. “Gotta...clean out the old place. Real shitty time, right before the holiday, but...it’s whatever. Typical, she dies and I’m left to clean up the mess.” 

“Oh…” Adora sighs, switching her shopping basket to her other hand. “I’m sorry…?” Catra shrugs, looking as sullen as when she was a teenager. She’d always had a difficult relationship with her mother, but still…

“It’s fine. I’m just here for trash bags. And this is not the right aisle,” she says with a rough laugh. “It was...nice seeing you, Adora. I gotta go.” 

“Oh,” Adora nods, even as a heavy disappointment sinks in her stomach. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Um. Aisle 18.”

“What?”

“Trash bags. Aisle 18.”

Catra nods too, and it’s weird how they’re both standing in the candy aisle nodding at each other, just like it’s weird they’ve run into each other at a grocery store after not seeing each other for four years. “Right. Thanks.” 

What’s not weird is how Adora doesn’t want Catra to go. Adora’s never wanted Catra to go, not the first time, not now. 

"Wait!” She says, reaching out to touch Catra’s arm as she turns to go. Catra pauses. Waits. “If you get done...if...if you want some company, the holiday party is tonight. You should come.” 

Catra stares at her, eyebrow arching until it disappears behind her hair. Adora feels flustered and she’s not sure exactly why. Catra clears her throat with a wry shake of her head. “I appreciate the offer. But uh...I do better alone.” 

Before Adora can get in another word, Catra is twisting away and disappearing around the corner. 

It doesn’t hurt like the first time, but it’s disappointing all the same. 

*****

“Adora, that’s salt, not sugar,” Bow says, gently prying the measuring cup from her hand.

“Hm? Oh, sorry,” Adora says, blinking herself from her thoughts. 

“What is up with you? Ever since you got back from the store you’ve been a million miles away.” 

Adora sighs, wiping her hand across her forehead and smearing flour on her skin. “I...bumped into Catra. At the store.”

Bow pauses, an egg poised in midair as he looks at Adora with mild shock. “Like, your Catra?”

“How many Catra’s do you know, Bow?” Glimmer asks sarcastically.

“She’s not _my_ Catra,” Adora mutters. “I don’t even know if we’re friends anymore.” 

“Oh yeah,” Bow taps the egg he’s holding thoughtfully against his chin. Glimmer carefully extracts it from his hand before he can crack egg all over his face. “She moved away right after college, didn’t she?” 

“Yeah,” Adora nods, sighing. “She didn’t even say goodbye,” she adds mournfully. “And then she just... _shows up_ in the grocery store! Out of the blue!”

“What’s she doing here?” Glimmer asks, vigorously stirring brownie batter. She’s got the slightly frazzled look of someone who’s been baking all day.

“Her mom died.”

“Oh.” Glimmer’s expression falls, then scrunches in confusion. “Uh, didn’t they not really get along, though?”

Bow nudges Glimmer sharply; she elbows him back, glaring.

“Yeah, no, they didn’t. I guess she’s here to take care of some things...and then leave again.” Adora frowns. “I never understood why she left in the first place. Why we...fell apart in college.”

“Unrequited love,” Bow nods sagely.

“What?” Adora gapes at him. “With who?”

“You!” Bow squints at her, like he’s trying to decide if she’s pulling his leg.

“Yeah, she was totally in love with you,” Glimmer snorts, dipping a finger into the brownie batter. Bow smacks her arm with a playful glare.

Adora laughs. “What? No she wasn’t.”

Bow and Glimmer share a look. “Uh, yeah, she was,” they say simultaneously. “And then, you became friends with us, and well...I think she was kind of insecure about it,” Glimmer says with a pained grimace. “We didn't exactly get along when you tried to introduce us.”

“So, you’re saying,” Adora begins, slowly wiping her hands off as her brain attempts to process. “The reason she got all sulky and distant and then moved across the country without a word was because she was secretly in love with me?” It sounds so ridiculous, Adora can’t help laughing again. She and Catra had been friends since they were kids. Surely Catra would have said _something_ …

“That sounds about right,” Bow agrees amicably. “You know, to be honest, we thought you guys were dating at first. You were so touchy with each other.”

“We were friends!” Adora bursts out. She is beginning to feel uncomfortably warm.

“No offense, Adora, but you’re kind of oblivious sometimes,” Glimmer says, patting her cheek affectionately.

“No...I would know if she had been…” Adora trails off with a shake of her head. She tries to remember, hanging out with Catra when they were growing up. Yes, they had been close, they had been friends. _Best_ friends. Sleepovers and lazy summer days lounging with one another, racing their bicycles down the street or pushing each other out of the way to get to the ice cream truck first.

And on the nights when Catra and her mom’s fights got too bad, she’d sneak out and climb through Adora’s bedroom window, and Adora would lift the covers, letting Catra burrow into the empty space next to her. They didn’t talk about it. They didn’t need to.

In between those memories, Adora remembers, hazily, things she had never put much stock in before. The long looks, the touch of a hand lingering for too many heartbeats, a sort of giddy uncertainty charging the air around them.

She thinks of the dreadful hollowness in her chest when she'd found out Catra had left without even saying goodbye.

In this moment, Adora realizes Glimmer is right.

She _is_ oblivious.

Catra had been in love with her. But more than that, Adora thinks she might have been in love with Catra, too.

“I’m an idiot,” Adora groans, resting her face in her hands. Bow slings a comforting arm around her waist and squeezes her to him.

“Yes, but you’re our idiot.”

*****

Adora does her best to ignore her sudden revelation and focus on the party instead. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter, because once Catra is finished taking care of her personal matters, Adora knows she will be gone again.

It’s too late.

The living room is overflowing with wrapped gifts and platters of desserts and candy. Adora gapes at Bow as he reveals his ugly sweater: a truly horrendous sweater-turned-crop top, with the words “I Bow-lieve in Santa” written in garish peppermint colored puff paint. On the back, a crudely drawn Santa Claus is trying to fit in the chimney of a gingerbread house, made out of actual gingerbread and graham crackers glued to the fabric . He even frosted the roof and added gumdrops.

“That sweater is awful, Bow,” Glimmer says as she looks on in horror.

He beams proudly and adjusts the sleeves. “Thank you.” A gumdrop falls and plops on the floor.

Her woes get easier to ignore when people start arriving for the party. Perfuma shows up first, handing over a beautiful, handmade Christmas wreath before complaining about the mistletoe they have hanging in the doorways.

“It’s a parasitic plant, you know, not really suitable for _kissing_ under!”

“Oh, don’t spoil the fun, Perfuma. The tradition comes from Norse mythology. You know, Baldur was killed by an arrow made of mistletoe, his mother Freya wept, her tears turned to white berries and she used the berries to bring him back to life. After, she blessed mistletoe and promised a kiss for everyone beneath it,” Bow informs her cheerfully. When he receives blank looks, he shrugs. “What? My dads are really into mythology.”

“Thank you for the wreath,” Glimmer said firmly when Perfuma opens her mouth to argue against the mistletoe some more. “Let’s find a place to hang it, hm?”

Adora hears Sea Hawk before she sees him; he’s singing carols outside, and when she opens the door to greet him, Mermista is standing next to him looking annoyed as he hangs on her, bellowing the words to Let it Snow.

“He’s drunk,” Mermista explains dryly.

“DRUNK ON LOVE, MY DEAR MERMISTA,” Sea Hawk proclaims with a stumble. Adora can’t help but snigger as Mermista drags him inside.

The rest of their friends—Frosta, Netossa, and Spinerella—show up with much less fanfare, although Frosta almost starts a fight when Sea Hawk asks if it’s past her bedtime.

An hour into the festivities, a knock at the door interrupts the party. Adora’s brow furrows, and she does a silent headcount.

“Uh...were we expecting someone else?” Bow asks, clearly as confused as Adora. A second, louder knock rings out, so Adora shrugs and shuffles through the small, crowded living room to answer it.

When she opens the door, cold winter air rushes in, and the breath in Adora’s lungs rushes out. Because standing in front of her is the last person she expects to see.

“Catra.”

“Uh...hey.” Catra shuffles awkwardly from side to side, wearing a jacket that doesn’t look nearly thick enough for the cold and a beanie stuffed on her head. “What the hell are you wearing, Adora?” she asks. Adora flushes and looks down at her own ugly sweater, a mish mash of glued on paper snowflakes and tinsel.

“It’s an ugly sweater.”

“You’re telling me,” Catra snorts.

“What’re you...I mean…” Adora stumbles, thrown off balance by Catra’s appearance. “I thought you weren’t coming?”

Catra shrugs, teeth chattering as she shivers. “Seems a waste to pass up a party.” Catra gives her a half smile and another shrug. Adora stares. Catra is _here_. She came back. 

“This is nice and everything, Adora, but it’s cold as fuck out here. Can I come in?"

“Yes! Yeah, of course, sorry,” Adora fumbles, stepping back hastily to let Catra slink into the house. As Catra passes by, Adora catches a whiff of her perfume, something warm and spicy. Adora inhales a little deeper, and Catra pauses, shooting her a bemused look.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“No. Don’t be ridiculous. I have a—a cold. Sniffles.”

“Whatever, weirdo.” Catra tugs off her hat, hair tousled adorably. Adora stifles a smile as she takes the jacket Catra thrusts at her.

“I’ll hang this up. Everyone’s in the living room, and drinks are in the kitchen—”

Catra makes a beeline for the kitchen before Adora can finish. Adora heads back to the living room, where Glimmer and Bow attach themselves to her like overexcited barnacles.

“Was that Catra?”

“Oh my god, Adora, you didn’t tell us you invited her!”

“She said she wasn’t coming,” Adora whispers, glancing anxiously toward the kitchen. “I wonder why she changed her mind.”

Glimmer hums curiously. “Are you...glad she changed her mind?”

“I—yeah, I invited her. We used to be friends...I didn’t want her to be all alone for Christmas.”

“This is so exciting,” Bow gushes, squeezing her arm. 

Adora turns her head to glance at him cautiously. “What’s exciting?”

“This!” he enthuses, jerking her with his suddenly flailing. “A second chance!”

“Second chance for what?” Adora strangles a yelp as Catra suddenly appears next to them, cradling a drink in her hand. She’s saved from trying to come up with an answer when Sea Hawk comes tumbling over, slurring as he tries to ask Catra to join him in a carol.

As the night progresses, Adora frequently finds herself zoning out, staring at Catra. She’s awkward with everyone, but Adora can tell she’s trying her best to be polite, even as she’s answering with her usual dry sarcasm. Luckily, her friends are several drinks in and either miss the sarcasm or are too happy to be offended.

Adora is glad they’re trying to include Catra, at least.

She’s so busy watching Catra, though, she’s not making a very good host; instead of circulating and talking with everyone, she’s rooted in place, eyes drawn to Catra as though she is magnetic. And she sort of is, with her smirks and low chuckles, her cheeks pink with the warmth of alcohol. Every time Bow and Glimmer catch her staring, they snicker and tease Adora.

“Adora and Catra, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I—” Bow starts singing.

“Bow, what are you, twelve?” Adora hisses, frantically trying to shush Bow. He opens his mouth start singing louder and she slings a giant marshmallow in his open gob. She only feels a little bad when he chokes on it.

“Adora!” he gasps, eyes watering as he finally manages to swallow the marshmallow.

“You’re fine!”

Catra looks over at the commotion, one eyebrow arched curiously. Adora flushes and shakes her head like she doesn’t know what’s going on. Her heart skips—no, tumbles, like it’s been pushed down a set of stairs—when Catra makes her way over.

“So did you invite me to this just so you could ignore me?” Catra asks, but there’s no bite in her voice, only teasing. She looks relaxed, lids heavy; buzzed, but not yet drunk.

“No, sorry,” Adora apologizes, biting her lip. She wants to ask Catra about her mom, but she also knows Catra won’t want to talk about it. “So. What have you been up to these past four years?”

Adora can’t stop herself from smiling as Catra talks about her life: her job that she complains about, but it pays the bills; how she’s started to learn to play the guitar and how it’s fucking hard to play and sing along at the same time (“I don’t know how people have the coordination, Adora.”); about her small apartment, and how the lease is almost up, and she’s been thinking of moving out.

Nothing Catra is saying is especially extraordinary. It’s just, Adora realizes she’s missed hearing Catra talk, from the way she gestures to her facial expressions as she tells a story.

“Hey, need a refill?” Adora asks as Catra drains the rest of her drink. Catra purses her lips as she considers.

“Yeah, why the hell not?”

Adora means to go grab a drink and come right back, but Catra follows her, and they snake their way through the people in the living room to the kitchen. Catra surreptitiously snags a handful of sweets from an open platter, and Adora smirks.

“Now who’s got a sweet tooth?”

“Shut up.”

They end up leaning in the archway of the kitchen, munching on snacks and sipping their drinks. The tension that surrounded them at the grocery store is gone. Talking to Catra is easy, and it feels like they’ve fallen right back into their old friendship again.

A chorus of giggles interrupts them, and Adora finds a crowd has gathered next to them. All of her friends look far too mischievous for her liking.

“Ahem,” Bow clears his throat loudly, then points up. A thrill of panicked excitement runs through Adora as she looks up at the archway she and Catra are standing beneath. She knows before she sees it, but somehow it still manages to surprise her.

A sprig of mistletoe.

The look on her friends’ faces are far too pleased now, like they somehow planned this and corralled her and Catra into this specific spot without her knowing. Maybe they had. She’s been so caught up in Catra, she can’t place what anyone else has been up to.

She glares at them, then takes a nervous glance at Catra. Her eyes are still locked on the mistletoe, her face pale, brow furrowed.

She looks upset.

A muscle in her jaw twitches, and then she’s pushing past everyone, through the living room and out the front door, not even bothering to grab her jacket. The giggles fade to silence, and Adora stands stunned for a moment.

The muscles in her legs propel her forward so she’s hurrying after Catra, calling her name.

“Catra, wait!”

Catra hasn’t gone far though. She’s out on the front porch, shoulders hunched up and tense, shivering slightly without her coat or hat. Cautiously, Adora goes to stand next to her.

“Catra…”

“I shouldn’t have come,” Catra says roughy, refusing to look at Adora. “I knew it was a bad idea.”

“I’m sorry, they’re just being dumb. Half of them are drunk, they didn’t mean anything by it,” Adora says pleadingly.

“No, they did,” Catra insists, head jerking up, eyes narrow slants. “They were rubbing it in my face.”

Adora tries to meet Catra’s eyes, but she’s doing a remarkable job of avoiding her. “What do you mean? What were they rubbing in your face?”

Catra grows tenser, like she’s trying to pull her whole body into itself.

“Glimmer and Bow said this thing to me today,” Adora ventures, her heart thundering in her chest. Even though it is snowing out, she suddenly feels much too warm. “They have a theory about why you left after college.”

“Oh?” Catra mumbles, still drawn taut.

“...They said you were in love with me.”

It looks like Catra has stopped breathing. The silence stretches between them, muffled in the winter air.

Finally, “Well what do they know? They don’t know anything about me.” Her voice is shaky, though, and Adora swears Catra’s eyes look watery.

“Oh. Well. It got me thinking—”

“I should go, Adora,” Catra interrupts, shoving herself away from the porch railing. Adora snatches Catra’s wrist before she can flee.

“Wait. Please. Just...stay.”

“I don’t need your pity, or whatever, Adora. It was a long time ago.” Catra tries to tug her arm away, and Adora tightens her grip.

“I was in love with you, too! I just...didn’t realize it.” Adora blurts out. Catra’s struggles cease, and she stares in open shock at Adora. They are both frozen, long enough for flakes of snow gather in Catra’s hair and on her eyelashes.

Catra looks beautiful.

Then she is surging forward into Adora’s arms, reaching for her face, tugging her forward until their lips meet, bruising at first. Adora feels a wetness on Catra’s cheeks, and she doesn’t know if it is snow or tears.

There is a desperation, a deep, aching longing to the kiss, burrowing into Adora’s chest until she gasps for breath, and Catra eases back. A thumb brushes along the edge of Adora’s jaw. She can’t decipher the look on Catra’s face. It is some kind of mix of vulnerability and softness she’s never seen before. Not that she can remember.

“You’re so stupid,” Catra says, her voice barely above a whisper. She’s still close enough to feel the warmth of Catra’s breath on her lips. “So infuriatingly stupid.” Her voice carries equal parts exasperation and affection, so Adora tries not to feel too offended.

She forgets to think about it when Catra kisses her again, slower, gentler than the first time, as though she’s exploring the shape of Adora’s mouth, memorizing the way their lips move together.

Adora feels dizzy, but in the best way.

When they do finally pull apart, Adora just takes Catra in: blown pupils against blue and golden backdrops, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, and snow covered hair.

“Come back inside,” Adora says. Catra seems uncertain, eyes flashing with doubt, so Adora takes her hand and leans in to kiss her again and make Catra feel her sincerity.

“Okay,” Catra says in between kisses. “Fine.” Adora thinks maybe she should have tried persuading Catra this way a long time ago; she can’t stop the smile that breaks the kiss or the huff of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Adora shakes her head. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For staying this time. I...I never wanted you to leave.”

“...I'm sorry.” Catra’s guilty, sorrowful expression leaves Adora with a pang of regret. If only they’d just _talked_ to each other back then. Things could have been so different.

“It’s okay. I was an idiot, remember?” she smiles, and Catra barks out a laugh. She runs a hand through her hair, grimacing at the amount of snow she finds there.

“Maybe you weren’t the only one,” she admits. Now that they aren’t kissing one another, Adora realizes again how cold it is; she can feel Catra beginning to shiver next to her.

“Let’s get back to the party and then tomorrow...we can talk?"

Catra nods, and Adora feels a sense of relief loosen the knot in her chest. As Catra makes for the door, Adora stops her.

“Oh, and Catra?”

“Hm?”

“Merry Christmas.” A shy, warm smile blooms on Catra's lips; it makes Adora want to kiss her again and again.

“Merry Christmas, Adora.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates Christmas, and Happy Holidays for those who do not! I didn't have any of my betas look at this, we're just going balls to the wall for Christmas, fam.


End file.
